


On and On and On ('cause the pain heals)

by violent_ends



Series: Hypnos [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Fuckruary 2020 (Lucifer TV), Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, Missing Scene, Multi, Orgy, POV Lucifer, Recreational Drug Use, S04e06: Orgy Pants to Work, Sexual Content, Smut, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violent_ends/pseuds/violent_ends
Summary: He doesn’t have to be different. Not with Eve. Because Eve wantsthe Devil,not whatever parody of himself he made along the way, a human-like imitation that abides to expectations and common sense andrules.Eve likes what he likes. Eve loves what he loves. Eve wants the fun to go on and on and on and to never, ever end.
Relationships: Eve/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Eve/Original Female Character, Eve/Original Male Character, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)/Original Female Character(s), Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Hypnos [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623364
Comments: 18
Kudos: 54





	On and On and On ('cause the pain heals)

**Author's Note:**

> Sugar prompt #15 marking + Spice prompts #15 whipping & #26 Orgy/threesome

When the fun starts, Lucifer feels catapulted back to a time when the bed was never _his_ bed, not for more than the few nights he booked the hotel room for before Amenadiel arrived to spoil the party, stopping time at the most inappropriate moments, leaving him aching and unfulfilled unless he asked nicely. This time around, though, no one will come to interrupt, and the fun goes on and on and on and he never, ever wants it to end.

It starts with Eve asking him what he used to do during his brief visits before settling in permanently, and her eyes sparkle with excitement at his reply in a way he didn’t really expect. He thought they would go partying, sure, and do drugs, why not; but he didn’t think Eve would have liked to _share_ him, so to speak, and his lapse in judgement makes him feel stupid and too full of himself.

He calls all the people he usually calls for this sort of thing, people he hasn’t called in forever; “Lucifer! What happened to you?” they ask before agreeing, and their disbelief is a stab to his chest because he _knows_ what happened to him, knows that he grew soft and serious and attached to... to his _job_ as police consultant enough to get distracted, or better, enough to strive to be... different.

But he doesn’t have to be different. Not with Eve. Because Eve wants _the Devil_, not whatever parody of himself he made along the way, a human-like imitation that abides to expectations and common sense and _rules_. Eve doesn’t have paperwork to take care of nor a child running around and craving her attention. Eve doesn’t care if he orders takeaway to eat in bed the whole day and leaves 100 dollars as tip to the delivery guy. Eve doesn’t tell him to _behave_ like a dog in training.

Eve likes what he likes. Eve loves what he loves. Eve wants the fun to go on and on and on and to never, ever end.

He discovers she gets a thrill out of being bossy with him, so he buys her a black and red leather outfit complete with a beret, a collar, a pair of knee-high boots and a new whip. It doesn’t seem to suit her at first, with her big eyes and soft features, but once he’s up in the air, chained to the ceiling by his wrists, the pleased smile that spreads across her face is almost feral, and he lets himself become the prey.

Her focus is entirely on him during the first party they throw at the penthouse: maybe she needs time to get used to the idea, Lucifer reasons, and everyone knows better than to come between them unless they show a clear desire to be interrupted. People are having sex on every available surface of the apartment: on the couches, on the bar, against the walls and the bookshelves, in the bedroom, on the _stairs_ leading to the bedroom. The only exception is the piano, a clear indication of how much these people actually _know_ him despite the randomness of their meetings.

It makes him think that maybe, maybe they really are _his_ people; that this is his scene, his life. Well, it certainly used to be. Before... _before_.

The whipping is a delight to him, mostly because it’s a low, intermittent tingle of sensation. He’s not sure he would like it as much if it _actually_ hurt, and he can’t really envision Eve getting off on pain, either. He might be oblivious about a lot of things, but he knows what this is about.

_I'm only vulnerable when the Detective is around._

Since then, Eve has tried everything to leave her mark on him: chains, whips, ropes, tighter and tighter handcuffs, nipple clamps, her own teeth and nails. Lucifer finds her dedication amusing and slightly flattering, whereas someone else would probably find it morbid or possessive. At the end of the day, nothing works, and he likes to kiss Eve's pout away until she abandons the idea altogether – for the time being, at least.

“Come now, sugar plum, I'm sure you can do better than that" he pants through a teasing, wolfish grin as Eve circles around him like a vulture, the whip dragging on the floor. She twists her wrist and snaps it on the ground unexpectedly, making him jump in surprise and absolute amusement at how hard she tries.

“It’s Mistress to you!” she scolds him, almost as petulant as a child, before stepping closer to grab him by the throat (a way less child-like gesture that he finds deliciously dominating, his pulse picking up speed under her palm). Then she rakes her nails down his chest until her hand is gripping his cock and squeezing too harshly, making him flinch in actual discomfort. “I'm gonna have to teach you to address me properly, _pet_.”

As time goes by, she grows bolder and more inventive, to the point where he doesn’t have to be the one organizing events and pastimes. Once Eve discovered the joys of the Internet and ordered her costume online, she quickly figured out she could get _anything_ delivered or booked, from a tub of molten chocolate to an overnight trip to the aquarium after visiting hours.

But the circus? Oh, that is all Lucifer. When he hears Cirque du Soleil is in town, he calls in a bunch of favors and voilà, the cast performs at Lux in a spectacle of glittery makeup, tight-fitting onesies and bodies twisting at such odd angles it’s a wonder they don’t break in half. Eve loves every second of it, cheering and clapping excitedly where she’s sitting next to him, watching acrobats fly from one trapeze to the other to land perfectly still on the bar at the end of the room or on the railing of the stairs.

It’s an absolute success, but oh, it doesn’t really compare to what comes next.

A word here, a smile there, and his provocative suggestion spreads like wildfire from one performer to the other. Long story short, Lucifer is now spread out on his bed, a joint between his lips before he passes it to Eve lying next to him. A lovely blonde contortionist is rocking in his lap with her back to him, but twisted all the way back with her palms planted on either side of his head, kissing him upside down once his lips are free.

“I wish I could do that" Eve gushes with wonder in her eyes, taking a long drag before her motions falter, a male acrobat going to town on her with his head between her legs. Lucifer chuckles and pries the joint from her fingers before it falls off, then brings it up to the blonde's lips to offer it to her. When she's done, there isn’t much left, so he leaves the stub in the ashtray on the nightstand and keeps himself busy by playing with her breasts, bouncing high in the air as she moves.

“_Lucifer_" she sighs, her French accent emphasizing the last syllable of his name. Then she keeps shifting, her hands moving along the length of his body, until she is forming an almost complete circle and her breasts are now directly in front of his face.

“Oh, wow" Eve comments, so impressed that she seems to have forgotten the guy trying his absolute best to please her with his mouth.

“_Love_ me a contortionist" Lucifer grins victoriously, burying his face between the woman’s breasts before rewarding her for her skill, his tongue switching from one nipple to the other until she’s writhing helplessly above him, hands fisted in the sheets to keep her balance.

“Please, babe, please let me try" Eve begs him, pulling the acrobat away from the back of his head.

The guy doesn’t seem to mind: he gives one appraising look at Lucifer and shrugs before simply asking, “Switch?”

Marlene the contortionist does seem to mind a bit, robbed of an orgasm that was clearly approaching, but she eagerly sinks into Eve's embrace to kiss her once Lucifer lifts her off his lap. He gestures for the man – he can’t remember his name at the moment – to come closer and kisses him messily, letting him slump on top of him to rub their erections together, but he can’t tear his eyes away from what’s happening next to them, mesmerized.

The circus acrobat is in the same position as before, but this time, her legs are spread above Eve's face and her body is arched all the way back so that her face hovers above Eve's center. The two women move in perfect harmony, creating a continuous circle, grinding against each other’s mouths. The sight alone would probably be enough to make him come, not to mention the sounds; and as if it wasn’t enough, the guy, who clearly has an oral fixation, decides to scoot down Lucifer’s body and take him between his lips without a warning.

Lucifer moans, or laughs, probably both; then scrambles for what was left of the still faintly smoking joint and takes a drag, closing his eyes. He flicks it away and stretches his arms back and under his head, getting lost in the sounds that can be heard all over the penthouse (of the other performers entertaining each other before having their go at them), in the smell of sweat and sex and absolute _bliss_ filling his nostrils.

He feels boneless, lightheaded as he hasn’t been in ages, floating on a cloud, riding a high of desires to be fulfilled again and again and again. On and on and on the ride goes and he never, ever wants it to stop.

Eve and Marlene come almost simultaneously, muscles locked and tense for a moment, two nymphs sculpted in marble to capture a fleeting moment of rapture before it passes. He follows suit just from watching them, helped by the guy’s undeniably talented mouth around him, fully conscious of the fact that the two women are now watching _him_, languidly wrapped in an embrace now that the circus artist has returned to a humanly achievable position next to Eve.

He pulls the man up and brushes his thumb around his slick, swollen lips. “What is it you desire?” he asks, but without actually using the power that usually accompanies the words. This isn’t work: in his bed, people don’t need to be convinced to tell him what they want from him, and he finds he loves it more when the answer comes without being forced out.

The guy hesitates, then looks down and gapes in wonder at the fact that Lucifer is pretty much ready to go again right away. “You" he replies.

The acrobat scoots to the side to kneel on all fours next to him and dips his head down to kiss Lucifer again, rousing him from his blissed out state. Lucifer grins against his mouth, then leaves him with a parting peck to settle behind him. Eve appears against his back, peppering kisses along his shoulders and the tendons of his neck as he coats his fingers with lube and starts pressing one into- _Stephan_, that’s right, it wasn’t even _that_ hard, come on now.

They end up as a party of four, Lucifer making out with Eve and the two performers making out with each other, Marlene now lying with her legs against the headboard so that her head is directly under Stephan's as Lucifer thrusts into him. It becomes increasingly hard to figure out who is making which sound, the four of them fused in one body with multiple limbs and lips, pleasure coursing like a spark of electricity from Lucifer’s head to the very tip of Marlene's toes.

And Eve, Eve encourages him as if she was the one moaning under him, telling him how good he must feel, how gorgeous he looks like this, and that he’s perfect, _perfect_, something no one has ever told him before. Fantastic, amazing, mind-blowing, eye-opening, the best ever, but never _perfect_.

And she means it. She likes him exactly the way he is, and likes to live life to the fullest now that she’s had a second chance. God knows, literally, how many struggles she’s had to face in the previous one.

Lucifer can give all this to her, and he will. He’s done obsessing over who he should be. As far as he’s concerned, all he needs to worry about is when to organize the next party and who to invite to keep things interesting.

He takes care of Stephan, then comes more joyfully than he’s done in a long time, laughing against Eve's lips as she brushes sweaty hair away from his forehead. They spend the next few hours in a messy, sweaty tangle of lazy bodies, trading kisses with each other, Lucifer between the two women and Stephan draped over him, his chin propped on his joined hands over Lucifer’s belly. For the rest of the day, people keep joining them until there isn’t an inch of the bed that isn’t covered in sated, sleepy humans.

Of course, it doesn’t take him long to realize that he has to slow down if he wants to keep his job – because the _job_ is still important, after all, he can’t just leave now that he and the Detective are friends again; and besides, what would the LAPD do without him? Catch criminals the conventional way? No, he doesn’t think so. The system was a bloody travesty before he showed up.

But no big deal, really, the orgies can be enjoyed on Saturdays only after all; enough with the school night shenanigans if he wants to be at the precinct bright and early with the _right_ donuts to offer Rookie Joan, Nameless Uni and all the others.

Sex with Eve, when they are alone during the week, is still amazing after all.

It is.

There’s nothing... nothing wrong in wishing they had company, right? He just likes things to be more exciting, less vanilla, so to speak. He just wants the fun to keep going, for himself, for her, for both of their sakes.

And it doesn’t have to end.

Does it?


End file.
